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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22836991">dreaming</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/privateering/pseuds/privateering'>privateering</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canonical Character Death, Dreams, Flashbacks, Love/Hate, M/M, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, No Dialogue, Psychological Trauma, Trauma, shows will hating hannibal, shows will loving hannibal, shows will upset with hannibal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 14:42:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>475</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22836991</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/privateering/pseuds/privateering</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Every night he dreams of loving him. Tonight he dreams of hating him, too.</p><p>-</p><p>The man’s grip on him tightens. He feels his seams loosen and his body melt. A puddle of water is all that’s left of him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>dreaming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/everyone/gifts">everyone</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I did a little story of a vague dream sequence. Doesn’t have a story line or any real meaning. Just exploring ways of melding different events into one another 😱😱😱.</p><p>PLEASE NOTIFY ME ON ANY MISTAKES I’VE MADE (SPaG RELATED)!!!👊</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Winston sits at the end of his bed, whining softly. The dog’s body stiffens, fur prickling and ears twitching. He hears something. Just a creak, but it’s loud in the black silence of the house.</p><p>It comes from right outside the door and the slight suggestion of the shape of shoes between the gap under the door is comforting.</p><p>He is here.</p><p>Winston may be weary but Will is the opposite; he’s thrumming with excitement. He is here to take him and Will is ready.</p><p>Slipping out of bed, Will sets a grin on his face and starts walking towards the door with a confidence that slows his steps instead of hurries them.</p><p>He arrives in front of the door. The shoes in the gap above the floor shift so they’re pointing forwards; he is also prepared.</p><p>Will grips the door handle firmly, carefully pulling the door towards him at the same time a gust of wind blows into the room.</p><p>The man is not facing him, as Will expected. Instead, he is calmly staring at the landscape that overlooks the cliff where the bluff is eroding. He looks serene. Will relaxes both his smile and posture.</p><p>In the same manner of opening his door, Will diligently strides towards the man, joining him by his side. This is where he wants to stay.</p><p>He feels a presence appears to his right. Will knows it’s Abigail.</p><p>Just as he turns to face her, the edge of the cliff comes loose. They’re falling. Will can’t bring himself to care. He’s with his family.</p><p>Milliseconds before they meet the surface of the sea, he wakes up in a chair; not one found at a dinner table, a cosier and thicker chair. He is across from him. The man smiles at him and asks him to draw a clock.</p><p>Will snarls in disgust.</p><p>He rises from his chair rapidly, lunging for the man’s throat. Hands wind around the man’s neck greedily and fingers press roughly into the skin.</p><p>The stag-man stares back at him. Hands automatically move to its antlers. Will grabs them with force. They smash.</p><p><em>China</em>, Will thinks as the tiny shards crash to the ground and impale his skin. <em>Delicate china.</em></p><p>He brings a shard to his mouth, places it between his teeth and crunches down.</p><p>He wakes up in the kitchen. The man is holding him. He feels a pain in his stomach. Will looks down. The handle of a teacup is hanging out of him.</p><p>A choking sound emerges from behind him. Will turns around. Abigail is on the floor, on top of a canvas of red. She searches his gaze, quietly whimpering.</p><p>Will howls with pain. He cries.</p><p>The man’s grip on him tightens. He feels his seams loosen and his body melt. A puddle of water is all that’s left of him.</p>
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